


Can't Help Falling in Love

by Avacyn8848



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rated teen and up for mild language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avacyn8848/pseuds/Avacyn8848
Summary: Crowly and Aziraphale started to love each other the day the met in the Garden of Eden.It just took them both several millennia to realize it.





	1. On the Garden Wall

The First clouds of the world had just started to brush across the sky, cloaking the gentle blue in ever more somber shades of grey. Two people, nearly black against the pale sands, drew closer and closer to the horizon as they moved, as if pushed by some invisible force, away from the Garden that had been their home for all their young lives. Yet despite the fear, despite the terrors ahead, they knew not to turn back. Although they would have seen quite the strange site if they had.

An Angel stood alone on the garden wall; hands folded tightly to mask their trembling. His face was pinched in worry and concern. The only thing that kept him rooted to the wall, staring at the retreating backs of Adam and Eve, was the feeling that someone from Above should be here to witness Her will. Even so, his lips pressed tightly together to prevent any sound from escaping, a silent mourning for the loss of a Paradise and for the two humans just tossed from it. 

The Demon responsible for said tossing had no such reservations.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.” The Demon’s deep voice broke the silence, rough and gravelly, as if unused to talking in this form. The Angel’s started, from fear or from nerves, The Demon couldn’t tell, but replied. Hesitatingly, haltingly, with a soft melodic voice that even then refused to catch on the sobs locked deep in his throat while the two conversed. Their speech was awkward, disjointed, but something about it felt charged, like the trembling of a leaf before its stem snapped and it dropped to the ground below.

The Angel dismissed the feeling as an unease brought about by the First storm that was slowly building behind them, but he couldn’t deny how oddly calming it was. To not be lost alone in his own thoughts and fears. To stand with another being who at least understood the magnitude of what had occurred, even if said being stood in favor off the opposite outcome.

At least, it was calming until the Demon took a closer look at him and asked, in complete disbelief, “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?” and the wave of self-doubt slammed into the Angel again.

_What if I did the wrong in giving it away? What if I went against Her plan? What if what if what if…”_

The Demon was asking about the sword again, and the Angel clung to his voice like a lifeline, grounding himself into the present until he realized that he’d been babbling out a response, words pouring forth in opposition to the tears that he had kept barricading behind his eyes. He turned towards the Demon beseechingly, hardly aware of what he was saying but knowing the fact it was heard was all that mattered. As if he just needed someone, _anyone_ , to say it would be alright.

His counterpart looked back at the Angel in amazement, taking in the worry in his wringing hands and the emotion that had his voice rising with each sentence that passed his lips. The Angel was trembling again, and his hurried look away from The Demon at the end of his outburst was not quite fast enough to hide his trepidation. Nor was his stare out towards the backs of the departing humans enough to disguise the sheen of his startingly bright blue eyes that spoke of the tears he was refusing to shed for the sake of Adam and Eve. The Demon already felt terrible about how this day was going, and the only thing in the mostly-new world that was going to make him feel worse was if he had to watch this gentle, golden creature actually break down crying in front of him. 

“Oh, you’re an Angel. I don’t think you can do the wrong thing,” the Demon reassured, other words quickly tumbling out of him without thought. Trying to do anything to get the Angel to focus on something else, _anything_ else. Even if it meant over-analyzing his own actions, his own potential failure. He thought he saw the faintest trace of a smile directed at him, a hint of laughter, before they both jumped slightly at the First peal of thunder, the First spatter of chilling raindrops onto the stone wall beneath them. The Demon idly wondered if they were Her tears, if She was willing to shed them when the one Angel who truly cared about the fate of humanity fought to keep his hidden. 

He had just decided he didn’t care enough about figuring it out to justify sticking around and getting soaked when the rain directly overhead ceased. He glanced upwards at a canopy of pristine feathers, then sideways to eye the Angel who was steadfastly refusing to look at him even as he sheltered the Demon with his own blessed wing. The Demon felt a strange warmth spread throughout his chest - gentler than the cruel fire that burned in Hell and warmer than the cold light found in Heaven. Without thinking, he stepped closer to the Angel, sticking out his hand in front of him and into the Angel’s confused gaze.

“I’m Crawly,” he said, completely forgetting if he had introduced himself earlier or not and rushing on before the Angel had a chance to remember either. “I’m assigned to work on Earth for, well. For a while.” He swallowed, suddenly realizing the absurdity of the situation. The Serpent of Eden, standing next to the Angel of the Eastern Gate without getting smited for his temptation, and still he wanted more. But he was a Demon - what else could he do but tempt everything, even fate itself?

The Angel turned to finally look at him directly, and then, ever so slowly, reached out and took the proffered hand, giving it a brief, polite shake. “Aziraphale. I believe I shall be here for a while as well.” And they stood next to each other in silence as they watched the rest of the storm.


	2. The Second Storm

Crawly hadn’t even meant to find Aziraphale, the second time. He had simply noticed the storm clouds - just as grey and even more gloomy than they had been that day in the Garden - and decided to follow them to their source. He had found himself in Mesopotamia, surrounded by an ever increasing (and confusing) collection of animals that he was quite certain should be mauling each other for food under normal circumstances. Which meant these were very much NOT normal circumstances. Which meant that somewhere around here should be….

He caught a flash of white cloth, painfully pristine among the drab browns and blacks of the locals, and Crawly caught his breath for a moment. If it hadn’t been for the lack of wings (or the fact that the crowd of humans made much more noise than an empty wall), he would have thought he had stepped back in time. The angel was wringing his hands together again, his gaze fixed resolutely ahead of him as if attempting to turn away badness and danger by sheer force of will. He hardly flinched as the animals passed before him, on their way up to an immense wooden ark. Without a second thought, Crawly slipped through the crowd and popped around to the Aziraphel’s side. It was a testament to the angel’s distraction that he hadn’t sensed the demon approach, only jumping around to take note of him at Crawly’s jaunty greeting.

Even while half paying attention to their brief exchange, Crawly could sense Aziraphel’s continued tension. Surely nothing else could cause as great a concern as giving away a prized holy position to two humans getting kicked out of Paradise…?

“Wiping out the human race…. Big storm.” That got Crawly’s attention. He whipped around to look at the angel, a quick barb on his lips to continue what should be, _must_ be just playful banter, but he choked it back down his throat at Aziraphale expression. Tight lips. Tense shoulders. Eyes scrunched to hide the fact they were even more blue than they usually were. He looked franticly around at the nervous humans, as if waiting for one of them to shout “Just kidding!”, but no such words came.

“… All of them?” the demon asked, barely suppressing a lump that rose to his throat. He could tell Aziraphale was rambling again, attempting to convince the Crawly – or maybe just himself – that the plan was justified, explainable. But as Crawly pressed, the angel fell silent and merely nodded. There was nothing left to be said – the Almighty had spoken. 

It made Crawly want to assure Aziraphale that the angel it wasn’t his fault, that he knew the angel would never wish harm upon Adam and Eve’s children, but he couldn’t. Any words from him should be damning, not kind. He had been in Hell for longer, understood the pressures from Above (and Below) better – and knew that any reassurance on his end would likely damn them both. Especially when Aziraphale already looked only a few seconds away from bursting into tears at the coming loss of life.

Crawly’s attempt to lighten the situation instead was cut short by the sudden flash of lighting, a booming crash of thunder that heralded in the storm clouds as they darkened the entire sky above. Voices began to raise in panic and confusion at the downpour – for all of Noah’s warnings, none had truly expected rain in the dry season of the desert until the first fat drops had fallen to mar the sands below. It was as of yet only a drizzle, easily soaked up by the parched ground, but Crawly still felt dread slowly creeping to surround him just as surely as the chill of rain began to seep through his black robes.

There was no helpful white wing to block the rain of this storm. No outstretched hands of introduction or solidarity, nor reassuring words to exchange. Even so, Crawly glanced at Aziraphale’s face – a face so clearly distraught and trying its best to hide it – and couldn’t help but feel the same warmth as he had on the Wall of Eden. _At least,_ he thought to himself, _there’s more than just me who will remember the people here. More than just me who gives a damn, even if we’re powerless in the face of Her will._ He reached out to pat the angel’s shoulder, thought better of it, and turned to disappear into the crowd.

-

Aziraphale looked away from the boat to watch Crawly go, a flaming curtain of red curls that had already begun to sag under the weight of water. He couldn’t get the disbelief (the horror, if he was honest with himself) of Crawly’s voice out of his head, especially now as he watched the humans around him grow more and more frantic as the rain steadily fell harder. He _knew_ he must not judge Her decisions; he _knew_ that she must have her reasons, and yet…

He had no flaming sword to give these humans to protect them from the coming danger. No kind words or minor miracles that even stood a chance at stalling the flood. And the creature he thought would be overjoyed at such death and chaos had shown no hesitation in making his displeasure at the events known, had shown more emotion about the entire event than any of the other angels who had passed through briefly in their hurry to return to heaven.

_What kind of demon shows grief at the death of a child?_ Aziraphale thought to himself, before smiling slightly to himself, glad that he wasn’t entirely alone in his grief. He wasn’t even surprised – for all the darkness and anger he could sense from the demon, he actually had never sensed anything truly evil. Not here, not in the times the angel had sensed a demonic presence from afar and turned away before an encounter, not even on the Garden Wall all those years ago…

But that didn’t change who the demon was. _What_ the demon was. With a sigh, Aziraphale shook Crawly from his mind as he once shed the waters of the first storm from his wings, and departed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm not going to write an entire chapter on every historical meeting these two have had. (Though there was such chemistry between them that I'm severely tempted...)
> 
> Comments welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be a work of several shorter chapters.First fic on AO3 so comments are welcome!


End file.
